It was this incredibly great moment of pure bliss. Surrounded by floating feathers, bouncing like small children on the bed without a care in the world. Odd to think that the series of actions that led to this delightful pause was anything but care free. Perhaps careless, but not care free. Amazing how chaos can lead to clarity.
What began as a simple outing to the theater, quickly dissolved into violence, understanding and revelations.
We were having an evening of relaxation and progress in our ever evolving championship. We were seated and the show began right on time. We were building through the storyline, the plot was thickening. Suddenly, as if part of the production, people swarmed in, orders were given to the audience. I thought, “Wow. What a great directorial call. Literally encompassing the audience, making them the action.” But the immediate change in his body language told me otherwise. It was very subtle, but I noticed it. I notice everything about him. I could see he was making a plan, attempting to conceal us. To protect, escape and evade.
Then he moved with the swiftness that told me this was not his first rodeo. I knew the seriousness of the situation before he even spoke. He never had to utter a word. His look was communication enough. It was all there in a brief glancing moment: “Never take your eyes off me. Do not speak. Do as you’re told.” Done. I never questioned a thing.
I ran. I moved. I followed with absolute precision. Crouched against the wall I could feel his back pressing me there. I dared not make a move or a peep.
We dropped to the floor. Ran along the row of seats. A blur of velvet red. There were screams. People dashing and some frozen in fear.
“Pop. Pop. Pop.” The rhythmic gunfire accented the frenzy.
It was the longest three minutes of my life. Like Simon says: green light, RED LIGHT!
Through the rows. Up the aisles.
A flood of air whipped through my lungs.Cold floor. Lobby. Shit. Pounding. Elevator!
We made it. I breathed if only for a moment. Here I was in a dinky elevator with him and that ridiculously corny elevator music. Only in the movies I thought.
I look at him–us. Standing side by side. He was a million miles from me. Lost in some expansive thought that was multiplying like white mice.
Simplicity was our thing. I held his hand. Closed my eyes and repeated, “Come back to me.” I let it fill me up. Slowly, until I was beaming inside. Then there he was. He was with me in that moment in that dinky little vertical moving box.
Damn. Moment was gone but it was a snap shot. Imprinted on my brain forever. I was so wrapped up in my Polaroid that I failed to realize we were rushing out into some unfamiliar underground garage. This wasn’t the way we came in. I looked. Then I really saw. Holy shit! What a collection of cars! The black on black ’10 vet, the hot red ’69 white rag top mustang, the ice white ’12 Audi R8 spyder. In love——
Snap back into it Nelson.
He was ripping through a room. 30 seconds later he appeared with a leather jacket. I took it without question. He disappeared again to the darkness of the garage.
Weird. Never thought I’d be standing in a garage in high heels, jeans and a borrowed leather jacket surrounded by the most breath taking cars.
Click. Click. That’s my package of hotness on a bike. Lord kill me now. Only this happens in the movies.
Without hesitation that rumbling beast stopped six inches from me. You don’t have to tell me twice to ride. I’m on and we’re off! Fierce. Powerful. Cutting through the night at a blur of fury. I was at home with this moment. Raw with this man. We–I–had no direction but he knew where this path lead. Up a winding cavern road. Climbing away from the city lights. I was so lost in my thoughts that never noticed the monstrous house rising up from the skyline. The glass and curves. The way it blended with the earth. An architect’s dream. Truly devine.
The rumble was gone. We where stopped. I dismounted and wondered aimlessly up the front walk. Truly overwhelming. He lightly touched my back. A thousand miles away.
I followed him into the house but he was gone. In his own world. I felt so out of place. My silence was interrupted by an describable sound of manly frustration.
I rushed to find him. He was destroying something. Violating the innocence of an object. I rounded the corner to witness a grown ass man ripping apart feather pillows. A manly man surrounded by delicate lightness. Oh the irony. He never faultered. He continued to dominate.
Slowly coming back to me. He realized his absurdness. His body language began to alter as if perplexed. Embarrassed by the site. He turned to face me.
I moved across the room until I was six inches from him. What to do? What to do?
I did the most natural thing that came to me. I looked deep into his sea blue eyes with every bit of my soul. I let my hands wander to his face. I leaned in and kissed him with every ounce of my being. I knew in that moment that I loved him for exactly who he was. He knew it. I knew it. There were no words to be spoken; no questions to be answered.
It was a carefully considered moment that was devoured by reality when I threw those feathers in the air and giggled like it was my first love.
Dear Key Pal [Mr. Greek],
Yes. I met a dude at a bar and had a healthy conversation. His name is [Waynesboro]. Since then it has been polite hello’s and excuse me’s. But that’s it and I’m cool with it. He’s one of those quiet nice guys that never gets noticed. Which is all well and fine but I’m not going out of my way to make friends.
However, the man front is ever changing and I have a new flavor of the month. His name is [Sunny] and he lives in California. I knew him prior to him moving there but I really know how to pick them right? At least sex can’t complicate this one. Only distance, which is exactly why the last relationship bit the dust. Well he also sucked at communication. Nevertheless, that’s where the revolving door of men currently stands.
Also, can’t remember if I told you or not but I had surgery last month. Just got my results back and I’m in the clear. Whoop!
And I’m making cookies tomorrow.
How’s your life? Ballin out in the desert?
Key Pal [Nelson]
Can you imagine what your life would be like if you lived in a Kesha song?
Wake up feeling like ass with last night’s make up on and its the middle of the afternoon. Shower briefly. Throw on your day old half ripped tank, a pair of hot shorts and combat boots. Rock out with some what the fuck ever hair and some legit black eyeliner.
Blast some songs on volume 100. Dance like a fool. Grab drinks where you can get them. Guys want to be with you and you mind fuck them. Love them and leave them. Rage.
Fall in bed at the end of the night. Think momentarily about how out of control your life is. How you need to get your shit together. How you loved that one.
But who gives a fuck. You’re life is fucking awesome.
Think of the world and gre….zzzzzzzzz
Wake up and do it again.
So here’s the deal. I spent the week alone this week and I honestly think that I have forgotten how to be alone. I use to be so comfortable with silence and being alone, and now I don’t know what to do with myself.
Nevertheless, I have used the time to think. After my surgery (yes I had surgery last week to remove precancerous cells–or so we think.) I made a pact with myself to do me. To not do what others expect of me, but to do what makes me happy. To get back on the wagon and become ambitious again. I want to make my life as comfortable as I can. I want to live and breathe and be as free as the wind and the flowing tides.
I miss it. I needed my silence and my aloneness again. I desperately need that reestablished.